


Operation Get Cleo Back

by ratrotriot



Category: Clone High
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Ponce is alive in this, they're both idiots, this is my first fic in a really long time sorry if its bad!!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratrotriot/pseuds/ratrotriot
Summary: JFK was used to getting what he wanted. So why would he think any differently when it came to getting his girlfriend back? With an ingenious scheme and his best friend Ponce in tow, JFK knew he would have Cleo back in his arms in time for a little Prom Night Lovin'!orPonce never died so JFK didn't get to have character growth and move on from Cleo, and Ponce really, really, wishes he'd just move on from her.
Relationships: JFK/Ponce "Poncey" de León (Clone High)
Comments: 93
Kudos: 373





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ok this is my first fic I've written since I was 13 so I'm sorry if its not very good!! I just got tired of re-reading the same fics over and over again so I wrote my own! I hope you like it!!!!!

JFK hated Abe Lincoln. Abe was a self-centered douche-bag who only thought about his own feelings. He only cared about getting laid and stealing other people’s girlfriends. JFK washed his hands in the porcelain basin, then ran his hands across his perfectly coifed pompadour and gritted his teeth, looking into the mirror.

“I-er-uh think some of those statements also kind of-uh fit referrin’ you too, buddy,” his reflection said.

“Hey, hot shot,” He jabbed his finger at his reflection, “I didn’t ask for your input.” He glared at himself. His reflection, of course, glared right back at him.

“I’m gonna get Cleo back no matter what it takes, capiche?” His reflection didn’t answer. JFK quickly nodded so that the JFK in the mirror seemed to nod back. “Good. Now I’m gonna get that broad back, even if it means I completely humiliate myself in the process!”

He pumped his fist in the air, posing triumphantly. The toilet in the girl’s restroom flushed. Susan B. Anthony opened the door, staring at him, eyes wide. JFK sauntered out. Susan B. Anthony stepped back into the stall.  
…

JFK sat cross-legged on the hood of his red convertible, mashing a take-out burrito into his face. It was late fall, and by all accounts it should have been a chilly day, but it was surprisingly mild out. The students of Clone High were taking full advantaged of the temperate weather, with many sitting out on the quad clad in only light jackets and scarves. He had half a mind to join them, he could see Catherine and Caeser gossiping together, coffees in hand. Just as he was about to move though, a sleek black motorcycle pulled up in the parking spot next to him. The rider dismounted, pulling his helmet off carefully, making sure not to mess with his already somewhat-squashed hair-do. 

“Hey Jackie-boy, slow down, you’re inhaling that thing.”

JFK looked at his best friend. “Hey Ponsh,” he said with a mouth full of beef, “whash up?” 

He swallowed the big bite and Ponce smiled at him fondly, arranging his hair back into place with a comb he took from his back pocket.

“Not much, just got my girl back from the shop. Cost an arm and a leg to get her brake lines replaced, but it was definitely worth it to avoid any accidents. Better to be safe than sorry, y’know? Just glad to have her back in working order.” Ponce patted the shiny black beast affectionately.

JFK nodded. Ponce loved his motorcycle. If he had to guess, he would bet that it probably represented some kind of freedom and sense of exploration that brought him closer to his clone father. He really only let people he really trusted ride it, and JFK had only been on it a few times. Something about clutching onto Ponce without any control over what was happening made him feel all unpleasantly weird inside. No thank you. He absentmindedly wondered how many girls had been on the bike with Ponce. Speaking of-

“Speakin’ of girls,” Ponce arched an eyebrow up at him. JFK knew he was much more private than he was about his love life, “the uh Winter Proms’ comin’ up. Thinkin’ of inviting anyone?”

Ponce hesitated. 

“I was talking to Joan earlier. She seems pretty beaten up over prom, I was thinking of asking her, maybe. She’s a nice girl, awful taste in men though. Nothing serious, but it would maybe cheer her up and make the night special for her. Either that or go stag, y’know?”

JFK nodded, not fully listening. “Right, right, if you went stag then you could pick up more dames, I get it.” 

Ponce knew that his best friend wasn’t fully listening. Jack didn’t get that he really didn’t want to go out with girls seriously. Sure he liked girls- girls were pretty, it was fun to go on dates, but he always found that no matter how his dates progressed, he always fell into a comfortable friendly rhythm with his partners that made it hard to have any real romantic or sexual interest in them. And after a while Ponce just stopped trying. If he were any other guy, he probably would’ve been pissed off, but he enjoyed his close friendships with the girls. Sometimes he just couldn’t say certain things to Jack or any of the guys- they were too wrapped up in High School machismo to understand what he was getting at sometimes. He frowned at the other teen.

“So I know Lincoln just asked Cleo, and she said yes to his half-assed promposal, but I-er-uh was thinkin’ that maybe if I swoop in and do somethin’ real special for her she’ll dump that chowdah head and go with me? Eh Poncey?” JFK raised his eyebrows, fully confident in his plan. Ponce sighed, leaning up against the side of the convertible. He ran his hand over his stubbled chin and looked pointedly at his friend. 

“Jack- you really gotta get over Cleo. She’s a great girl and all, I get why you’re sweet on her. But she’s also made up her mind to be with someone else and you gotta respect that. Move on man, let yourself be happy. Ask someone else to prom.”

JFK was silent for a moment as he finished his burrito. Maybe Abe hadn’t really stolen his girlfriend. Maybe Cleo just started feeling different about him… that was a harder problem to solve. He could respect her choices… or …

Ponce watched the gears turn in his buddy’s head. JFK was stubborn and slow to warm up to new concepts, but he really was a great guy. He just needed nudges in the right direction sometimes. But when push came to shove he always made the right decision-

The last puzzle piece clicked in JFK’s head. 

“PONCE! You’re a genius!” JFK launched himself from his seated position into an awkward side hug with his lower body still on the hood of the car. Ponce blinked, his hand coming up reflexively to Jack’s shoulder.

“I… am?”

Jack was really close to him now. He had a big goofy grin on his face, and looked for all the world that Ponce had just handed him the answers to all the world’s problems. Jack’s big brown eyes stared into his hazel ones, and Ponce could feel his face start to warm despite himself- it was just the way his friend was looking at him, it was so… reverent. Jack’s lips parted slightly and he heard him take a breath.

“Ponce, will you go to the prom with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My twitter is @rat_rot_riot if u wanna follow me there!!


	2. Chapter 2

Ponce’s mind was blank. He normally prided himself on being cool, calm, and collected, no matter the situation. But holy shit. 

It’s not like he hadn’t been interested in guys before. When he was a kid he got The Outsiders on VHS. Truly, formative media for him considering his current style and interests. From the time he was 9 he would spend hours sat in front of the TV, watching the dramatic story fold out. He eventually branched out to West Side Story, Grease, and Happy Days. But he just kept coming back specifically to The Outsiders. But more than just watching for the rumbles and the dramatic coming-of-age story, Ponce had been captivated by the group of men on screen. Ponce was pretty sure that at this point in his life, he’d already had crushes on Ponyboy, Sodapop, Dallas, and Darry. Patrick Swayze in a tight black T-shirt really sent his poor teen heart into overdrive. 

But his best friend? He’d never thought of him that way before. It’s not like he didn’t find his friend attractive, they were just so close that he had always thought of Jack more as a brother than anything. He didn’t know if JFK was straight or not, just like JFK didn’t know about his preference for men. They’d just never talked about it. JFK was so busy chasing girls and hated talking about his emotions, so in their years long friendship it truly just never came up. Until now.

JFK looked expectantly at him. He’s been silent for an uncomfortably long time. 

“I’m sorry… what?” Was all Ponce could muster. 

“You said ask someone else to prom.” 

“Y-yeah Jackie I did, didn’t I.” Ponce’s thoughts were racing. A cool breeze blew through the parking lot, carrying the last of the leaves down from the trees. He could feel the cold metal of Jack’s car through his pants, but Ponce felt warm all over. 

JFK didn’t get what was so confusing, but his buddy obviously needed clarification. He was sure that he would’ve been able to track his thought process. But he guessed he had a plan so good that only he could’ve thought of it!

“See Ponce-o, if you go to prom with me, Cleo will get so jealous that eventually she’ll realize what she’s missin’ out on! And she’ll er-uh dump ol’Abe and get back with me! I don’t have to take her back, I just gotta make her wanna take me back!”

It was such a stupid plan that only JFK could’ve thought of it. Ponce took a shaky breath in, steadying himself. He was about to say just that, when his friend gave him the biggest doe eyes he’s ever seen. Ponce felt himself flush again. Why was JFK getting so under his skin right now? He felt completely detached from his cool guy image, drowning in a sea of uncharacteristically teenage confusion. Why was he just standing here? Wasn’t he going to ask Joan to go as a friend? Why hadn’t he said no by now?

Instead, he just asked, “Why me?”

To JFK he just seemed like the natural choice. They were like two peas in a pod, just like his underage and totally legal tattoo said. 

“Well you’re the only one I trust with this incredibly important plan! Plus if Cleo thinks that the relationship is too real she might not wanna get involved at all! I don’t wanna risk some betty’s poor heart when she inevitably falls for me, so with you by my side, there won’t be any uh-er whats that word? Collateral! And you’re already goin’ stag so whats to lose, really?”

JFK gave Ponce a huge smile. It would be loads of fun to spend time with Ponce up until he got Cleo back. It sounded like a total win-win to him! Time spent with his best friend, directly followed by time with the hottest girl in school. With such a fool proof plan, truly this would be the best Winter Prom ever!

Maybe Ponce was coming down with something. His palms were sweating. His palms never sweat. People always get sick when the weather turns cold, right? He couldn’t place why there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe he should’ve asked if he could’ve had a bite of JFK’s burrito before he ate it all. That was probably it. Ponce nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, ok. I’ll go to the prom with you, Jack.” Jack hopped off his car entirely and clapped Ponce on the shoulder excitedly.

“This is gonna be wicked awesome!” Jack beamed at him, and Ponce felt like his head was still swimming. But if he was really going to commit to helping his friend, he had to patch up the loopholes in JFK’s plan. And there were a lot of loopholes.

“If we really want to be believable, we can’t just keep acting normal, right?” He started slowly, as not to anger his easily excitable companion, “No one will just get jealous of two guys who are clearly just best friends. How will we announce it to the student body? And what do we tell our parents? I think there’s a bit more planning involved than you might’ve imagined.” 

JFK considered that. Ponce was right. They had to be convincing enough, and while that might have been easy with any girl, Ponce was different. And it wasn’t just that he was a dude, he was … Ponce. He hadn’t considered that all that time with his buddy would be spent canoodling. And really, what would he tell his dads? He could just imagine it- the next Pride Month album: JFGay. His smile faltered. 

As Ponce looked up at his friend, he noticed the smile on his face start to fade.

“Don’t worry Jackie-boy, it’s you and me, we’ll figure something out!” JFK’s smile brightened again, and he nodded at Ponce, who started feeling that maybe-sick feeling again.

Dear god what had he gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter!! It really means a lot! The next few chapters are pretty Ponce heavy cause I just have an easier time getting into his head, but there's gonna be some chapters that focus on JFK primarily, too!


	3. Chapter 3

It took JFK and Ponce the better part of the week to figure out the ins and outs of what JFK had named “Operation Get Cleo Back”. They met every day at lunchtime, with JFK grabbing them food to repay Ponce for cooperating with the scheme. Finally on Friday they formed a solid plan. Starting Monday, the pair would act like they had gotten closer, like something had fundamentally shifted in their relationship over the weekend. Cleo was the queen bee, the top of the food chain. If they let up their act for even a second, if they even told one person it was fake, gossip would get back to Cleo. As for their parents, they would wait until closer to prom to reveal their involvement, just in case Cleo jumped the gun and immediately asked JFK out after his promposal. They would, however, eventually have to tell their parents who would be accompanying them to prom if Cleo waited until that night to make a move. That worried JFK considerably. His parents would freak if he showed any interest in a man. 

That was really the one thing that gave JFK any pause in his plan. If they thought he was like them, his dads would be so proud. It felt almost cruel to pretend to be something he wasn’t in front of their faces. He gave his dads a lot of flak, but they did support him a lot. The only thing Wally and Carl were iffy on was him liking girls, and even then, that was mostly Carl. Wally was a great dad, and even if they didn’t always understand each other, he still made a considerable amount of effort. 

JFK thought back to that very confusing week when Joan pretended to be be a man to get on the basketball team. He’d definitely worked through some shit that week. His dads knew something was up with their son, and had been nothing but supportive. Even if he still didn’t understand his emotions from those few days, he was grateful for his dads’ support. His dads had been so happy when he watched Will and Grace with them, too. 

He groaned. He really wanted this plan to work, but here he was, sitting in the back of Mr. Sheepman’s 7th period English class, hung up on the one detail he and Ponce weren’t able to work through the previous period at lunch. Ponce had just looked at him placatingly, and replied nonchalantly,

“Hey, don’t worry, man. We’ll get to that bridge when we cross it.”

He really was glad he asked Ponce. He couldn’t see the plan working with anyone but his best buddy. The rest of the day was a blur, but during rest of his classes, JFK decided that if he had to fake-date any guy, Ponce would be his first choice every time.  
…

Ponce gritted his teeth as he sawed through a 2x4. The latest project in wood-shop was making picnic tables to be set up in the quad so that students had the option to sit there instead of the grass. He looked around, watching Jésus nail a few boards together, forming a cross shape that definitely did not look like the schematics they were all suppose to be following. Ponce glanced at the clock, 15 minutes until the last period of the day was over. He started cleaning up his work bench, and stacked his cut boards towards the side of the classroom, out of the way of other students who used the shop. He was a bit behind on his work this week, but he was having a problem concentrating. As he was sweeping near his bench, he thought to himself.

It really was such a stupid plan. JFK wasn’t taking it as seriously as he would’ve liked. For the better part of the week, in between conversations about boundaries and whether or not Ponce would come to school with hickies at some point -hard no- he had been making various James Bond references while discussing their “Top Secret Mission”. If he was being honest, it made him… uneasy. He should just tell JFK what he really meant by asking someone else to prom. JFK’s promposal to him was scheduled in one week, and the prom was still 3 weeks away. That was more than enough time to figure out a different solution for Jack, without him, or any girl, getting hit in the cross fire of JFK’s obsession.

The final bell rang, and while walking to his locker, Ponce decided that he’d tell Jack that this wasn’t such a good idea. He had to let him know exactly how he felt, and that he really should just move on from Cleo, take another girl, and have a great night with her. That was the the right thing to do, to be completely open and honest, and help his friend move on from Cleo before he pined after her for the rest of his life. 

When Ponce neared his locker, he saw JFK in front of it already. The taller boy smiled at him, and started rambling about school gossip while Ponce got his things. When there was a lull in Jack’s speech, he looked over at his companion.

“Y’know, Jack, I’ve been thinking,” he started, “I really don’t know if-“

He watched as Jack’s gaze landed on something behind him, and saw the normally confident teen’s expression turn sour. Ponce turned his head to look at what was bothering his friend. Cleo and Abe were walking down the hall, with the girl coiled around his arm like a boa constrictor. He said something to her and she laughed, her voice tinkling out like a bell, and rested her head on his shoulder. Ponce turned back. Jack looked like he just got punched in the stomach. 

“Jackie-boy, listen-“

Suddenly Ponce felt hands yanking up on the lapels of his leather jacket. Then lips on his. 

Time seemed to stop. It was like all of a sudden the world was a vacuum, and inside were only Ponce and JFK. There was no sound, save for the increased beating of Ponce’s heart, and the rush of the blood to his face, which sounded a lot like waves. Huh. He felt calm and still for what felt like both a second and an eternity. Then, like a rubber band stretching slowly and snapping all at once, it was over.

JFK pulled back, an apologetic look in his eyes before masking it with a lovey-dovey expression. Ponce turned back to his locker, took a steadying breath, and grabbed the last of his stuff. He felt all eyes on him, the burning weight of what would soon be the latest gossip in the rumor mill. He closed his locker slowly, and looked up at Jack, still with that light-headed calm floating around him. This was all part of the plan, even if they were starting it earlier than anticipated. Ponce slung his bag over his shoulder, and reached out a trembling hand toward his friend. Just as they planned. The pair walked out of the school, with every student focusing on the singular detail of their hands clasped together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

That night, as JFK got ready for bed he thought about the events of the day. He squirted toothpaste on his toothbrush and brought it up to his mouth. 

He paused, looking in the mirror. He had kissed his best friend today. He had kissed Ponce. Of course they had started their plan a little earlier than expected, but how could they not? JFK saw the way Cleo was looking at Abe. JFK screwed up his face while brushing his teeth. He just had to act then! He had seen the look of shock on Cleo’s face when he pulled away, so at least his plan looked like it could be working already. 

Kissing Ponce hadn’t been unpleasant either. He smelled good, like leather, pine, and tobacco smoke. His lips were soft, yet just chapped enough to remember he wasn’t kissing yet another random girl. And the scrape of stubble across his face hadn’t been unwelcome either- he actually enjoyed it. 

JFK spit into the sink. Huh. Maybe after all this Cleo business was sorted he’d spend some time thinking about this new revelation. After the John Dark situation he definitely had some questions about his previously unwavering heterosexuality, but he had just thought it was a fluke, especially when John revealed themself as Joan. His newfound enjoyment of kissing his best friend sure was adding a new perspective to all that. 

He looked at his reflection, who eyed him, blushing slightly. “After Cleo, I’ll sort this thing out, ‘kay?” His reflection looked back at him, unreadable. “Goodnight, handsome fella.”

He turned the bathroom light off.  
…

Ponce de Leon could not sleep. He had work the next morning, but no matter how much he willed himself asleep, the clock on his nightstand angrily burned his eyes with a display of “3:12 AM” in red. He wasn’t someone who suffered from bouts of insomnia, but tonight was different. Finally, he sat up and scrubbed his eyes, sighing. He stared at the dark ceiling and decided to get up. Maybe fresh air would help. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair and lifted his bedroom window, popping the two tabs on the bottom of the screen so he could lift it up, careful not to pop the two other tabs on top as he shimmied out the window. 

Settling onto the cold roof, he wrapped his jacket around himself to protect from the biting wind. He drew a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket and lit one, breathing in. He held it in his lungs for a beat, then let the acrid smoke balloon up and out into the cloudless sky above. 

There weren’t all that many visible stars in the suburbs of Exclamation, the houses were too close together to see most of the sky and there was too much light pollution. Still though, he recounted how as kids Jack would pull them out onto one of their respective roofs and they’d stay huddled there under a blanket as the other boy pointed out the names of constellations and the occasional planet that they could see. Ponce knew the original Juan Ponce de Leon navigated to America using the stars as a guide, but he himself didn’t really know too much about them. He squinted at the sky, just making out the shape of the Big Dipper. He vaguely remembered what Jack had told him about the constellation. That night when they were 11, Jack had guided the smaller boy’s arm with his own, from the tip of the bowl on the Big Dipper, up to the North Star, “Polaris” he heard Jack’s voice say softly in his mind, and across another line of stars, sweeping to form the Little Dipper. With his cigarette hanging from his lips, he followed that same path with his eyes, 5 years later.  
Jack had said that the North Star stayed still, with the rest of the night sky twirling around it. That the much bigger and easier to spot Big Dipper, relied on the smaller constellation to keep it grounded as it danced in circles through the night.

“Just like us Ponce-O!” The young JFK had said.

Just like- 

Ponce raised his hand to his mouth to take another drag on his cigarette, but he stalled with his fingers on his lips. 

JFK’s lips had been on his just 12 hours ago, and if he closed his eyes he could still feel them. Warm and soft, he could swear that the kiss had felt like every movie kiss he had ever seen. Time had slowed around them, and their bodies had fit together perfectly, like they were meant to be. 

Ponce inhaled quickly, choking on hot smoke. Coughing, he put out what was left of the cigarette on the shingled roof and flicked it away. He watched it, following the stub as it bounced into the gutter and disappeared. He was reading far too much into the situation. Jack would tell him was acting like a girl, and that he was too in his head. He was sure that Jack wasn’t reacting like this. He and Jack would just have to act like this for a few more weeks, maybe less, and then everything would go back to normal. And Jack-

And Jack was all that he could think about. His lips, the expression in his eyes, the feel of his hand in his. A night breeze hit him like a splash of cold water to his face, and he gulped in the cool air like a man drowning, clearing the last traces of hot smoke away from his lungs. He had feelings for Jack. 

Ponce drew his legs up to his chest, studying the worn flannel of his pajama pants. The revelation didn’t startle him as much as it should have. Sure, Jack was attractive, with broad shoulders, big brown eyes, and a muscular body. But it was so much more than that. They had spent a lifetime together. When the pair would go to the movies Jack would always get Junior Mints, and Jack still slept with a teddy bear sometimes, and always took his coffee with 3 whole packets of sugar, and Ponce knew that he was the only person in the world who knew all of those things about JFK. 

Cleo definitely didn’t know any of those things about JFK. He tried to squash the wave of jealously that washed over him. He shouldn’t be jealous, it wasn’t her fault that Jack liked her. He shouldn’t pit her against himself, especially when she had already moved on. He knew that the plan wasn’t going to work, hopefully JFK would come to see that. He had agreed because—well he didn’t really know why he had agreed.

Ponce sighed. This would be a rough couple of weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell I was listening to Mitski when writing this lmao. Anyway, thank you for reading! And thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, it makes me so so so happy to know people are enjoying this story!


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Ponce had worked his shift at The Grassy Knoll, and JFK worked on his next album. Every time he glanced over at his dads through the recording room window, he felt a little pang of guilt, which he quickly pushed away.

Wally knocked on his door Monday morning, just as JFK was finished getting ready. 

“Honey?” He called, waiting for a second before opening the door. “Ponce is waiting outside with his motorcycle. I didn’t know he was taking you to school today, is something wrong with your car?” JFK’s eyebrows shot up before he could stop them. That wasn’t part of their plan.

“No, er-uh, nothin’s wrong with my car, I uh just wanted to spend a little time with my best friend before school, what’s so wrong with that?” He shot back, defensively.

Wally smiled, shaking his head at his son.”Of course nothing’s wrong with that, sweetie. That boy’s just too sweet. You sure are lucky to have him. Reminds me of Carl when he was your age!” 

JFK blushed. Sure Ponce was nice to him, but reminding his dad of his husband? They weren’t — well, they were kind of. Dating. JFK and Ponce were, to the outside world, very much an item. But it wasn’t like his dad knew that. Yet.

Embarrassed, JFK grabbed his book bag and his fleece lined jean jacket and brushed past his dad to go downstairs, mumbling a “Good morning, have a nice day,” at Carl, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, reading the newspaper.

He shrugged on his jacket before slinging his backpack onto his shoulder, opening the front door. Sure enough, Ponce stood at the curb, hands in his pockets, looking unsure. He straightened his posture as JFK approached. 

“Uh, hey Jack, I was gonna call but then Wally saw me and said he’d come get you. I know we didn’t talk about going to school together but I just though since Friday… y’know maybe it would make sense. Drive the point home.” JFK looked down at Ponce, who wasn’t meeting his eyes for some reason. It was a good plan, honestly. If anyone hadn’t yet heard about the kiss in the hallway, JFK coming to school on Ponce’s motorcycle would definitely turn enough heads for the rumor mill to finish the job. 

Ponce reached into a bag that JFK hadn’t noticed before, handing him an extra helmet. It was cherry red, and would probably be noticeable from a mile away. Ponce ducked his head. He had picked it up Saturday after his shift. He had just been going to browse for new gloves at the nearest motorsports store when he saw it. It made him think of JFK, and he knew he had just enough in his wallet to cover the cost.

JFK took the helmet, looking at himself in the face shield. “Is this for me?” 

Ponce coughed. “I mean I dropped my other spare a few weeks ago and it cracked, and I figured you’d be riding with me more often for the next few weeks so… yeah.”

“Sweet.”

The pair climbed on the bike, JFK wrapping his arms around his much shorter companion’s torso. With his new helmet in place, JFK felt really cool, despite clinging to the other man. He absentmindedly wondered if this is how Ponce felt all the time. 

Ponce gulped as his friend’s arm’s embraced him. He had grown used to the idea of having a crush on the other teen, but all this physical contact? That was still a hurdle he needed to get over. Once they got going, all the pair would be able to hear was the sound of the engine and the wind whipping past, but until then Ponce prayed that JFK couldn’t hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest.  
Just as the Ponce was about to tear off through the streets, JFK heard Wally call out “Have fun at school today, baby!” He groaned, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. Ponce chuckled, and with that they were off.  
…

Ponce’s idea to show up together on his motorcycle that morning really was smart. As soon as JFK took his helmet off, he noticed just how many eyes were on him. Perfect! Now there would be no doubt that their relationship was real. 

By the time JFK got out of his 8th period physics class, Marie Curie came up to him. 

“Is it really true? That you and Ponce are…” she paused, “… dating?” 

“It-er-uh sure is!” In all his planning to broadcast the news of their relationship to the entire student body, he hadn’t actually considered what they might think about the relationship. Huh. He was really bad at thinking things through.

Marie smiled at him. “That’s so cute! You guys make a really good couple. You’re perfect for each other!”

Perfect? JFK scratched the back of his neck he watched her walk towards her next class.  
…

“Perfect” seemed like the general consensus about the new relationship among the students of Clone High. The stoic cool guy with a heart of gold and the resident player and heart-throb. Ponce would finally tame JFK’s wild ways, and JFK would finally crack Ponce’s cool guy exterior. The worst part? At least where he was concerned, Ponce thought, they were right.

Ponce thudded his head onto his desk. All day he had been stared at like some kind of specimen, every blush, brush of their hands, and stutter categorized and filed away for some later use by his peers. And then the questions started. 

The were innocent enough at first. When they got together, “Officially, this weekend,” came Ponce’s rehearsed reply; how, “We were just hanging out as usual last week and one thing just kinda just led to another,” vague, yet believable enough to satiate their curiosity; did their parents know, Ponce stumbled over this one “Not yet, we’re just testing the waters for now”. And then came the others. 

“Have you slept together yet?” giggled Marilyn Monroe.

Ponce was stunned into silenced. That was invasive, and yet with Jack’s history, he really should’ve seen it coming. He was blushing, he knew that, and that combined with his silence gave an unintentional confirmation that made the girls he was talking to titter with glee.

“Oh he’s great isn’t he,” Helen of Troy started, patting his chest,“If I weren’t so happy for you two, I would almost be jealous that he’s off the market!”

They were acting like this was permanent. Ponce had to keep reminding himself not to slip into that false reality. This was fake. It was going to end sooner than later. Ponce tried not to think about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this was supposed to be up yesterday, but I was super busy this weekend! 
> 
> inapickle put it in the comments of chapter 3, but I just wanted to put it here so that everyone could see it!! They did really amazing fan art of the hand holding scene !!!! https://ibb.co/989DMxk 
> 
> If you make fan art too you can tweet it at me or tag me on insta! I'm @rat_rot_riot in both places. Or of course leave it in the comments :3
> 
> I've kinda hit a bit of a lull in writing this fic, but I'm gonna be uploading an extremely self indulgent JFK/Ponce one-shot sometime this week, too! I hope you'll read it!
> 
> Thank you all so much for the love, it really means so much!!!


	6. Chapter 6

After the flurry of excitement that was Monday, by Thursday things had returned back to relative normal. Of course the pair were still actively displaying their affection publicly, but the rest of the students seemed accustom and even indifferent to their new closeness. The most reaction JFK had seen that day was a few smiles tossed in their direction as the two held hands. It was bothering him. After the initial stunt, Cleo hadn’t even acknowledged that the two teens were any different than before, she was too wrapped up in Abe to care. 

He gritted his teeth, checking over the to-do list he had written for the promposal. Flower petals? Check. Four piece band? Check. Fireworks? Check.  
…

Ponce had waited for his dad to be finished up at work, he had mentioned something about taking him out for a bite to eat that night, and Ponce was more than happy to spend some time with his dad. Truth be told, he needed to de-compress after what had already been a stressful week, and what would no-doubt be even more of a headache tomorrow.

As Ponce and Glen sat in the family car, Glen adjusted the mirror and cleared his throat.

“So, how are you, son?” Glen kept his eyes on the road ahead of them, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Good…” Ponce eyed his dad suspiciously. They were normally pretty casual with each other, but the energy in the car felt… off. Manufactured. Like he was trying too hard to keep his son comfortable and failing miserably at it. It was silent for a beat, before Glen spoke again.

“How’s… JFK?” There it was. That was the reason it felt so weird. Glen looked at him through the rearview mirror, taking in Ponce’s startled expression. He sighed, pulling the car over. 

“Ponce,” he turned to look at his son, “stop me if I’m crossing a line. The last thing I want to do as a father is invade your privacy. I love you. But you know that I’m the school janitor, and I try not to pay attention to the gossip I hear, but you did have to think that I was going to find out eventually, right?”

Ponce felt like an idiot. Of course his dad was going to find out. He had just let himself believe his placating words to Jack about “crossing that bridge when they came to it”. Now, here was that bridge, looming ahead of him. He would feel awful lying to his dad. It wasn’t easy for Glen being a single father, and Ponce really respected him for that. He knew that every healthy parent-child relationship still had secrets, but this felt like a big one to keep. At the same time, Ponce couldn’t just open his mouth and tell his dad that he was in a fake relationship with his best friend, let alone follow that up with the fact that he secretly did harbor those romantic feelings. To top it off, while Glen was supportive of him, they had never actually sat down and talked about Ponce’s sexuality. They had both just made grand overarching statements to each other until both got the point, with Ponce commenting a few times on actors and musicians he liked, and Glen offering vague words of acceptance and support.

God, he hadn’t even come out properly and he was already talking to his dad about a guy he was seeing. 

“Ponce,” Glen hesitated, snapping the teen out of his train of thought, “JFK has a certain reputation. Again, kids say the darnedest things, so I try not to pay any mind, and I’m not gonna say who my kid can and can’t hang around with. But that was before I knew about you two.”

Ponce looked at his dad for the first time since the conversation started. He didn’t look mad or disappointed like he feared. Instead, he just looked worried.

“He’s known as a real one and done kinda fella, if you catch my drift. I’m sure you know that. I just don’t want to see you to get hurt.” Ponce’s gazed softened as he looked at his dad. He knew he just wanted the best for his son. Ponce rested his hand atop the older man’s. 

“Hey, don’t worry. I know what I’ve gotten myself into.”

And he really did. Even before he realized his own affections, he understood what the next few weeks would entail. Sure, he was more than skeptical at the outcome of the plan, but the two boys spent days talking about exactly what they were and weren’t comfortable with before the kiss even happened. While his heart did take a while to catch up to his brain, Ponce thought he could manage whatever small bit of heartache came his way.

Glen studied his son’s face, as if searching for something still hidden in it. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for he looked into the teenager’s eyes.

“Does he make you happy?”

Ponce allowed himself a small, truthful smile. “Yeah, dad, he does. He really does.”

Glen nodded, content with the answer. “All right, kiddo. Let’s get some grub.”  
…

JFK couldn’t focus on his homework. That wasn’t new, but normally it was out of sheer boredom that he did the bare minimum to pass. Tonight he couldn’t do pre-calc for a completely different reason, he was just too damn excited. JFK pushed his rolling chair back from his desk, spinning himself in circles. He closed his eyes, imagining the scene he had spent the last few days orchestrating. The sun would be out from behind the clouds, there would be a chill in the air, and he would kneel before Ponce. The band he had hired to sing the oldies that Ponce loved would be crooning something sweet and soft, and rose petals would be raining down from above. Finally, when Ponce said yes, fireworks would shoot through the sky as he pulled him in for another warm, loving kiss. 

“God, Ponce is gonna love tomorrow.”

JFK jerked to a halt, stopping the chair from spinning any further. This was all for Cleo. Not Ponce. He shook his head, as if to clear the thought aside.

“Get your head in the game, Kennedy! Stop acting like some kinda sissy broad and focus!” He scolded himself. He had to keep his eye on the prize! And by prize he meant Cleo. He couldn’t afford getting distracted by these weird feelings starting to bubble to the surface. Annoyed with himself, he scooted back up to his desk and got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clone High said early 2000s accurate homophobia and I keep going no I do not wish to see it
> 
> Ty for reading this chapter! The next one should be up Friday or Saturday, and the one shot will be up real soon!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing bad ever happens to the Kennedys ft. Blanky Mode

JFK snapped his eyes open. He was cold. He wrapped himself up in his blankets as much as he could to avoid the chill, but to no avail. He was still freezing. He peered over to his nightstand. The clock read 6:34 AM, almost 30 minutes until his alarm was actually set to go off. Groaning, JFK waddled himself and his blankets over to the thermostat, intending to set it to blast. When he got there though, it already looked like it was turned up fairly high. Despite that, he was still chilled to the bone. He made his way to the window next, throwing open the heavy navy blue curtains and drawing up the blinds.

Shit.

Overnight, over a foot and a half of snow had been dumped on the town of Exclamation. JFK could see Carl bundled up at the end of the driveway, digging out his car so he could get to school. School, of course, was still happening. JFK didn’t think Principal Scudworth had ever given them a snow day. As far as he knew, some students just didn’t show up on snowy days and then risked the death maze upon their return. 

The teen plodded downstairs, still wrapped in his blue fleece blanket. He grumbled a quick good morning to Wally, who was busy at the stove making pancakes. 

“Why good morning, sleepyhead!” Wally greeted, as JFK shuffled to the coffee maker, taking a mug full from the still warm pot. “You’re up earlier than usual, I see!” 

Dishing a few pancakes onto a plate, he handed it to his son. “Butter and syrup’s on the table, eat up while they’re still hot!” 

JFK mumbled in thanks, making his way to the kitchen table. He sat down, poured maple syrup on his breakfast, then cut into the fluffy stack. As he shoved the first few bites into his mouth, he heard Carl come in from outside, his boots thunking on the floor as he took them off. His other dad joined them in the kitchen, moving to put his hand’s on his husband’s hips. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Carl grinned.

Wally smiled. “Pancakes. Now go join JFK at the table and I’ll be there in a second, honey.”

He poured himself some coffee before settling down across from JFK. 

“Crazy weather we’re havin’ ain’t it, kid? Nice for weeks and the boom! Snow dump.”

“Damn nor’easter” JFK muttered into his cup of over-sweetened coffee.

“Yeah, don’t think much of anything’s gonna happen today. Too damn cold.”

JFK’s eyes shot open. He stood up quickly, bumping the table. 

“‘SCUSE ME, I GOTTA USE THE UH-ER RESTROOM!”. JFK dashed out of the room, blanket forgotten on his seat.

Wally entered, carrying plates for him and his husband.

“Now, I wonder, what’s gotten that boy’s knicker’s in a twist this early on a Friday morning?”  
…  
JFK grabbed his phone off his nightstand. It was just past 7, but he already had two voicemails on his phone. Raising his phone up to his ear, he pressed play on the first one.

“Hey, this is Mike, guitarist for Houston and the Eagles. I’m just calling you to let you know that we, unfortunately, can’t make today’s gig because of all of the snow. Hauling all that gear out in the snow wouldn’t be too good for our instruments and-“ JFK heard muffled voices on the line, then “Yeah, yeah, Neil, I’m getting to it, hold on. We’re of course, not gonna charge you, except for the non-refundable deposit. Sorry about that man! Hope your event still goes well!”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Biting his lip, he pressed play on the second voicemail. 

“This is Roy from American Fireworks. Sorry kid, but I’m not freezing my balls off for a little off-season fireworks show. It’s too fucking cold. Call me when it warms up.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He stood, staring blankly at his phone. Suddenly, it buzzed and started blaring “My Country ’Tis of Thee”, startling the teen, who juggled it for a second before dropping it. He dove for the phone, catching it just before it hit the ground, and accepted the call before it had time to go to voicemail. A young woman’s voice greeted him on the other end.

“Hi, Mr. Kennedy? I’m from Roz’s Flower Shop, and I’m calling to inform you that due to the inclement weather, we were unable to receive our shipment of rose petals. We’ll be issuing you a full refund, and offering you a complementary bouquet as an apology for the inconvenience. Again, so sorry sir.” 

JFK stared up at his ceiling covered in stick-on glow in the dark stars.

“Sir? Are you there?”

“I-er-uh yeah. I’m here. That’ll be fine.”

After a few more seconds of profuse apologies from the florist, she ended the call and JFK hung his head.

_Shit._  
…

They were scheduled to meet in front of the school at 12:30. Ponce shivered, checking the time. 12:52 and no sign of JFK anywhere. Few students were milling around outside, with most doing the smart thing and staying warm indoors. While he had been waiting, wrapped up in a parka and smoking a cigarette in an effort to stay warm, it had started snowing again. Luckily it was coming down lightly, but Ponce was willing to bet that it was going to get heavier soon. Another few minutes, and he would be going back inside. 

“Ponce!” He looked up. JFK was running through the snow, cheeks flushed from the cold, with one arm behind his back. He put out the cigarette, dropping it in the snow. JFK jogged up to him, slipping on the slick ground. He reached out and steadied himself with a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder. “Ponce,” he said, breathless, inhaling the sharp, cold air.

He dropped one knee on the cold, shoveled concrete sidewalk. “I-er-uh had a whole big to-do planned for today but ‘cause a the snow it didn’t really get to happen. But I can still recite the speech if ya want.”

Ponce nodded. JFK cleared his throat.

“Ponce de Leon. You’re my best friend. We’ve spent our whole lives together, and I wouldn’t trade a second of that time for the world.” JFK cleared his throat. He took one of Ponce’s hands in his, and pulled the bouquet of roses and baby’s breath from behind his back.

“I-er-uh, wanted to ask you, Poncey. Would you make me the happiest fella alive, and do me the honor of being my date to the prom?”

Ponce gently took the bouquet, studying Jack’s face. Snowflakes caught on his eyelashes and freckled his flushed checks with white. Every few seconds his breath puffed out in a soft cloud. His eyes searched Ponce’s face as he waited for a response. 

He drew a breath in. Ponce knew this was coming, but the short speech touched him all the same. He often got frustrated with how emotionally stunted Jack was sometimes, get here he was now, kneeling in front of him, open and earnest. There wasn’t a single lie in the words he had spoken. It felt… real, Ponce decided. It didn’t feel like just an act. After all, there were only a handful of students outside, who were they acting for? Even if JFK hadn’t meant his words to be romantic, the genuine feeling behind them made Ponce’s heart flutter in his chest.

He crouched down to the other boy’s level, bracing himself on his friend’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. JFK’s face broke out into a grin. He looked so happy, Ponce couldn’t contain himself. He leaned in, wrapping an arm around the taller boy’s neck, his breath ghosting over JFK’s lips. 

“For the plan,” Ponce supplied, before closing the distance. 

Their lips met in the cold air, and the wind picked up around them. JFK couldn’t feel the snow fall on them, or the cold concrete underneath his knee, or the wind whipping their hair. The first kiss had been driven by jealousy, by competition, but this? This was just JFK and Ponce. It felt like everything felt with him, like coming home after a long day and wrapping yourself in a warm, worn blanket that you’ve had for years. It was familiar, comforting and grounding. JFK felt Ponce’s hand rest against his cheek, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Ponce pulled back just enough so that their lips were no longer touching. JFK could still taste the tobacco smoke on his lips.

“Y-yeah. For the plan,” JFK murmured before leaning in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love JFK's parents I just wanted to write them being domestic,,,, ok
> 
> Also the one shot is up if y'all haven't gotten around to reading it yet!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's been 6 months. The fandom is dead again and now I'm back with the second half of this fic lol  
> Literally I have no idea why I started writing this again after so long. All I can say is that I was bored and wanted to procrastinate on homework and it was Valentine's Day... enjoy?

For all the failures of JFK’s promposal, it did get people talking about them again. In fact, the student body found it extremely cute that JFK hadn’t gone over the top like years prior. That really meant something, they said. You must really mean something to him, they said to Ponce.

Jack wasn’t in school Monday morning, as he had taken the morning off to go to the doctor’s for a checkup, and they were meeting up at lunch. Ponce didn’t know what to do with himself. For the first time in weeks, he was alone at school, no tall, handsome shadow walking him to classes or swinging an arm around his shoulders. It should have been nice, he thought. Privacy, freedom, finally! But Ponce couldn’t shake wanting the familiar weight of his friend’s hand in his, he missed the smell of his expensive cologne, missed the warmth he felt when the were together. He felt stupid. Sure he was more sensitive than his companion, but it was only half a day apart.

He had an off period before lunch, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Before JFK’s harebrained scheme, he would’ve gone for a short joyride on his motorcycle, sought out some friends to chat with, or gone to the library to get a head start on homework. None of those options seemed intriguing enough now. He stood by his locker fiddling with the lock, spinning it back and forth as he decided what to do. 

There was a slight thud of a shoulder hitting a locker to his right. He jumped, woken from his thoughts.

“Ponce,” Joan nodded at him, leaning against the metal.

“Hey, Joan, how’re you doing?’

“Good. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Ponce laughed. He could feel himself coloring slightly.

“Ha, yeah. Been pretty busy, y’know? Honeymoon phase and all that.”

Joan arched a manicured, black eyebrow at him. “Mhm, honeymoon phase.” She tapped the toe of her thick-soled combat boot against the toe of his buckled boot. 

“Y’know, this really isn’t fair to you, Ponce.”

Ponce felt his jaw tighten. She couldn’t be referring to-

“Sorry, Joan, I don’t think I’m tracking.” Her body language was relaxed, arms crossed, weight resting on the wall of lockers behind her. She wasn’t a gossip by a long shot, but she was incredibly clever. 

“Oh c’mon Ponce. More than half the reason anyone believes this whole fake dating thing is cause of how you look at him. Like he’s farting out rainbows and puking up puppies. Seriously, and I thought I had bad taste in men?”

She gauged his reaction before continuing. 

“I don’t know exactly what the endgame is, but my whole life is trying to to get Abe to notice me. Ponce, you’re a great guy. You’re gonna get hurt.” She rested her hand on his shoulder, gaze filled with concern for her friend. Ponce knew the reality of the situation, but it definitely wasn’t easy hearing it come from another person. 

Ponce sighed, resting his back against the lockers and sliding down until he was sitting on the linoleum. Joan joined him, watching his hands wring into knots. 

“I didn’t realize I liked him until after agreeing to the plan,” he started. Joan made a soft, compassionate noise in the back of her throat. “I think I’ve like him for a long time now— but now that I’m aware of it and with the constant couple-y behavior… I don’t want to stop. When we’re in private I want him to hold my hand like he does in front of the rest of the world,” stopping, he chuckled grimly. “It’s like I have the opposite problem of every other small town gay couple in America.” 

Joan rested her head on the other teen’s shoulder. “You could alway be honest with him.”

Ponce let a breath through his nose. “I know. But somehow I feel like either way I’ll get my heart broken.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, speaking softly about Joan’s love life, before turning to discussing her latest film she was making, and a novel she thought he would like. 

“Ponce!”

The pair startled as JFK came striding down the hall. 

JFK squinted his eyes. Was Ponce …canoodling with a broad right underneath his nose? He felt jealously spike in his gut. Ponce was _his_ boyfriend, what the hell? His eyes widened slightly and his confident steps faltered as he realized what he was thinking. No, he wasn’t jealous, he couldn’t be. This was fake, and he was just worried that Ponce would get their cover blown! Yeah, that was it.

By the time he reached Ponce and Joan, he was thinking clearly again, and he reached his hand down to help his fake-partner up. _Fake_ -partner. He brought Ponce close to his side, slinging his arm around the smaller man’s waist. He planted a kiss to his companion’s temple before putting on his best “I am calm and comfortable in my sexuality and my plan is flawless and perfect” smile.

“Hiya, Joan, how’s things?”

“Pretty good, JFK, looking forward to the Winter Prom?” She was squinting her eyes up at Ponce. What was that supposed to mean?

“You bet. Well, Ponce and I are gonna go head out for a bite to eat. See ya round Joan!”

Ponce gave her a little wave before JFK all but corralled him out of the school. Why the hell was Jack acting so weird? He had never gotten so… territorial around any of their other friends before. Ponce looked up at his friend who seemed to be… blushing? Jack met his gaze and offered a sheepish grin, re-adjusting his arm around his waste so it rested more on his back. As the bell rang in the hall, they stepped out into the cold winter noon sun and it dawned on him. Could Jack be… jealous?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really unhappy with this filler chapter, which is why I stopped uploading haha. I've fixed all the parts I didn't like and now it's up! I have all but one and two half chapters written now, so I'm gonna try to finish this thing and post it! I wanna get this thing out of my system so I can write for other fandoms without a guilty conscious.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I poured all my gay ass yearning into this chapter, enjoy!

The pair climbed into Jack’s van, and JFK drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as Ponce buckled his seatbelt. 

“Where to, Ponce-o?” 

“The Grassy Knoll? I could go for a milkshake.” He watched JFK nod and turn the key in the ignition. Was this weird? Was he staring at Jack too much? He gulped. Oh god, he was, wasn’t he. 

His friend glanced over at him. “Do ya mind if we eat in here, maybe? We haven’t spent much time jus’ the two of us since this whole thing started… I kinda miss it.” Jack smiled shyly, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“‘Course not, Jackie-boy. I’ve missed us, too.” Ponce settled into his seat, the nerves in his stomach starting to settle like a sea after a storm, the rolling anxiety in his gut returning to a soft ebb and flow of seemingly omnipresent nervousness. He and Jack had done this kind of food run for years, he told himself, and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that everything between them was the same it had always been, he could pretend that they were still in fifth grade, hopping the fence turning lunchtime and using lunch money to pay for fast food instead of eating bad cafeteria slop. 

He turned to the window, gazing out. 

They pulled up to the diner, and seeing a few students nearby, JFK hooked his pinky with Ponce’s, almost like it was second nature only after a week. After a lifetime of slowing his stride’s for Ponce’s shorter ones, he supposed that a few new mannerisms weren’t hard to add to the routine. Temporarily, he added, a bit too late. 

He hung back from the counter as JFK put in their food order, having long since memorized Ponce’s regular order of fries and a chocolate shake. They waited in comfortable silence for their food and headed back to the van. On the ride back, JFK stuck his hand into the food bag, stealing a few of Ponce’s fries, grinning at him when he rolled his eyes. 

JFK found his usual parking spot, rolling up to the curb. Ponce slid the door to the back of the van open, watching, amused, as Jack clambered over the seats. Ponce smiled fondly at his best friend’s childish antics. 

Jack flopped back to a beanbag— which if Ponce was truthful, those beanbags definitely grossed him out, he had no idea how many people had put their naked asses on those— and Ponce handed him his container of food. He tore into it with gusto, telling a story animatedly between bites.

“—and she stood up in the middle of health class and just left, Ponce! Can you believe it? The whole class didn’t know what to do—“

He nodded along, smiling and making the occasional noncommittal noise where it was appropriate. Thinking back to his earlier anxiety, he almost laughed at himself. Friendship-wise, they’d be fine. He might end up with his heart a little worse for wear, but he and Jack’s friendship wouldn’t change, even if, by some miracle, he did get back with Cleo. Nothing was awkward or different than any other time they had hung out like this, despite Ponce’s feelings bubbling to the surface. He swirled a fry into his milkshake thoughtfully and munched on it. He was fine, they were fine and—

Now Jack was silently staring at him, expression unreadable.

“… Jack?”

The boy in question shifted his weight on the beanbag, leaning in. Ponce watched him open his mouth, but no words came out. 

As Jack reached his hand out, time seemed to slow. Jack’s fingers cupped his chin, thumb coming up to caress Ponce’s bottom lip, and Ponce’s brain short circuited. Sure they had kissed already, but they were in private now. This was uncharted territory for them, terra incognita, and everything in Ponce’s explorer DNA begged him to lean into it. 

“You have, er-uh. Milkshake. On your lip.” Jack’s voice was low and thick and Ponce suppressed a shiver. Jack’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. Before his brain could catch up with his body, Ponce ran the tip of his tongue along his lip, catching Jack’s thumb and the chocolate on his mouth in one sweep. Color bloomed to his face as he heard the other boy’s breath hitch, his eyes roaming Ponce’s face before settling once more on his lips. He started to close the small gap between them and Ponce’s eyes fluttered closed, before all of a sudden he felt the taller boy go stiff and yank his hand—and the rest of his body— away. 

Clearing his throat, JFK couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes. What the hell was that? Why didn’t he just tell Ponce about the chocolate on his face like a normal person? He glanced briefly at Ponce, who looked… dazed. If he had spent a second more looking at his friend, he would have caught him biting the lip his finger had just been on, his pupils blown wide.

He cleared his throat again, eyes boring into the floor. “Y-Yeah. I er-uh— am pretty tired from that Doctors appointment, actually. Gonna call it a day and maybe get some shut-eye,”

“Oh… okay”. Did he sound disappointed? JFK didn’t look at him to confirm that suspicion. Did Ponce want…? No, he was just weirded about whatever just happened between them, that had to be it. That was what JFK was feeling too, of course. 

Ponce gathered the rest of his food, and JFK fidgeted in his seat before hopping out of the back and into the driver’s seat. As soon as Ponce was firmly on the curb, Jack peeled out of the parking lot. He spared one glance into the rear view mirror, looking at his friend that he had quite literally kicked to the curb, standing and staring dejectedly after him. He ran a hand down his face. Jesus.

His dads were at work, thankfully. He toed off his shoes in the front hall, stomped up to his bedroom, and slammed the door behind him with much more force than necessary, before hurtling himself onto his bed and burying himself in his pillows. He let out a shrill scream, not nearly cathartic as it should've been. He lay there, face down, for what felt like an eternity. 

Finally rolling to his side, he faced his floor length mirror. His reflection looked pensive and slightly sad, the opposite of the rolling emotions coiling around inside his gut.

“What’re you lookin’ at, huh?” He bit out.

His reflection regarded him for a second before speaking. 

“It’s alright if ya' like Ponce, y’know.”

He groaned, throwing one of his many pillows at the mirror.

“Aw, shuddup!”

…

He and JFK were dancing. Of course the were, they were at prom, weren’t they? He looked up at Jack, who gave him that same boyish smile he’d reserved for Ponce since they were kids. It was like he had turned down the volume on his normally wild grin, but by no means did that mean it was any less bright. Just… subdued.

Jack’s arms shifted around him, drawing him closer to his chest. Ponce’s pulse quickened, he had to feel it too, right? Jack still smiled down at him, the faintest pink flush coming over his features.

They twirled around, absorbed in each other. Warm light reflected in his dance partner’s eyes, revealing the brown to be flecked with greens and golds. His tux clung to his broad shoulders, over which Ponce’s hand lay on the smooth fabric. The other was cradled in one of Jack’s, the feel of his hand smooth and familiar, tethering them together, anchoring Ponce in the moment.

The pair slowed to a stop, still holding one another.

“Jack?” 

He didn’t answer at first, but brought their clasped hands closer, rubbing his thumb over Ponce’s skin. 

“Jack, I…” His words died on his tongue as he watched his friend bring their join hand up, pressing a kiss to Ponce’s knuckles. 

“Ponce… I can’t pretend anymore—” JFK started. Ponce blinked up at him.

“I’m no good with words, you know that. I just- I thought maybe you’d… wanna do this for real now.”

“F-For… real?” Ponce’s voice shook. What was happening? The plan? Cleo? Would he really just throw it all out for Ponce? He watched distantly as his hand trembled in JFK’s grasp, and his partner turned it over to lay another kiss on his palm. His eyes met Ponce’s and he offered a small, warm smile.

“Yeah.”

He felt like a small boat tossed in the sea, like he had spotted land after being adrift, like a seabird soaring in the sun high above the waves, like an explorer on a new adventure.

Jack’s other hand came up to cup his jaw, his thumb teasing Ponce’s bottom lip. Leaning into the touch, he sighed, letting his eyes flutter close. All around him he could feel Jack, smell his cologne, hear him hum in satisfaction. He could feel Jack’s breath ghost over his lips and—

He blinked up at the ceiling, tangled in his blankets. Groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes, he turned over and went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol


End file.
